During their five-year engagement, Carey Carlson and Jenna Brooks tried planning their wedding twice but became frustrated by the expenses, the stress and the never-ending arrangements. The third time, they decided, it would happen, even if the ceremony were in a courthouse before a judge.

It didn't come to that.

On June 20, they stood in a densely decorated "chapel," where gold chandeliers dangled from the pink ceiling, and a framed portrait of Kenny Rogers graced the far wall above racks of doughnuts. Carlson, 28, and Brooks, 29, faced an ordained minister, and the $200 ceremony, planned in a half-hour, began.

That "minister" was Kenneth "Cat Daddy" Pogson, co-owner of Voodoo Doughnut, and the "chapel" was Voodoo Doughnut Too, a Northeast Portland outpost of the original downtown location, noted for its offbeat themed pastry and, perhaps to a lesser extent, its offbeat themed weddings, with about 150 performed since 2003.

Reservations made at least one week ahead of time are preferred, though some couples have simply walked in, asking to be married. If there is sufficient staff, and either Cat Daddy or fellow co-owner-cum-minister Tres Shannon is available, sometimes it works.

These days, a typical month at Voodoo sees about two ceremonies, Cat Daddy says, though they're growing in popularity — up by an estimated 75 percent from a couple of years ago. He attributes that to high-profile attention from the Travel Channel and a harsh economy that's forcing lavish weddings out of style.

"Cheaper weddings are definitely the hot thing," he says.

They were that Saturday in June, when Cat Daddy presided at three ceremonies — the most Voodoo ever performed in one day. After all, he said, June is the traditional month for weddings. Halloweens, Fridays the 13th, and June 6, 2006 — 6/6/06 — also have been popular.

The newlyweds ran the gamut that day — civil engineer, office assistant, construction inspector, tattoo shop owner and retail workers. Little connects the couples Voodoo has married, Cat Daddy says, aside from a distaste for planning and a desire for something fast, fun, and easy.

That's why Meg Hughes, 38, and Mark Aguilar, 43, took the three-hour drive from Poulsbo, Wash., for a ceremony in the adjacent park, under the batting cage with home plate between them.

"It seemed like a fun and unique way to get married," Hughes says. "We're older, too, so we didn't want a huge wedding.

Kim Hause, 52, and Gary Lindemyer, 53, traveled from Hood River with the same logic.

"We're old," Hause says. "It was either the courthouse or this, and this sounded way more fun."

Their wedding was held before seven guests and a makeshift congregation of random patrons who entered the shop seeking a sugar fix, not a wedding invite.

The customers watched, clapped, then fell back into line. The wedding party mingled to the left, where they ate bride and groom doughnuts from a silver platter.